


A Touch

by thesoundofnat



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 13:58:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3328901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesoundofnat/pseuds/thesoundofnat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A touch can do so much. It can build you up or destroy you. Bilbo knows that it can do both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr thesoundofnat.tumblr.com
> 
> I'm using the warning major character death since it mentions Thorin's passing. I hope you like it!

Bilbo had known that it would be difficult. Nothing he’d done in his life had been to prepare him for this journey; absolutely nothing. He knew that he’d be without guaranteed food, guaranteed comfort, and guaranteed safety, but never in a million years would he believe that he would feel lonely.

He knew that he wasn’t completely believed in by the dwarves; knew that he wasn’t their first choice of a burglar, but after overhearing Thorin voice his thoughts once again, something just snapped inside of him and a coldness swept over him. As they lay down for a few hours of rest, Bilbo, like many other nights, spent the majority of the time tossing and turning, and then eventually staring at the star-filled sky. Not even the beauty of the sight made him feel any better. He rubbed his palms over his arms, trying to dilute the chilly feeling in his body. And that’s when he realized he wasn’t the only one who was awake.

A hand touched his elbow lightly where it was resting at his side, and he almost jumped out of his skin. He turned his head quickly to see the face of Thorin looking at him soberly. Bilbo hadn’t even noticed that he’d been lying next to him the entire time.

Thorin didn’t say anything and Bilbo didn’t ask, but after watching each other for a moment Thorin finally broke the spell; adjusting his position so that he was resting on his back.

Bilbo was utterly confused, but didn’t give it any more thought as sleep unexpectedly took over. Before drifting off he vaguely felt a warm touch graze his hand, and something new and unfamiliar became present in his life.

He wished he could call it a constant presence, but it was rather unpredictable. Some nights Thorin could be sleeping several feet away. Other nights he could be close enough for Bilbo to feel. Some nights they could be separated by ten dwarves. Other nights they could be separated only by thin air.

Bilbo didn’t understand it; whatever it was. All he knew was that Thorin’s hand touching his own made him feel safe, and safety was something he’d longed for ever since leaving Bag End. However deep their troubles were, and however dangerous, just the feeling of that hand made it feel like things would be okay. That orchs and wood elves and trolls and goblins and dragons wouldn’t be able to hurt them anymore. How he ached for that hand.

They never discussed it, of course. This was something they needed, not something they needed to converse about. Thorin never looked at him when their hands were touching, and that was okay.

As far as Bilbo knew, no one had any knowledge about what they were doing. It was none of their concern, either way. However, sometimes he did catch one of the dwarves’ somewhat questioning, maybe even knowing, look. Thorin didn’t pay it any mind, so neither would Bilbo.

Thorin kept doubting him openly for a while, and those nights where he kept the distance came after those days where he’d said something hurtful. Bilbo hurt even more when he didn’t have anyone to touch. He didn’t hold it against Thorin - he was even doubting himself - but Thorin Oakenshield seemed to be ashamed of the words he let slip and was avoiding him. One night Bilbo had had enough and simply walked up to him, laid down by his side and reached out for is hand. Thorin didn’t object.

And on that night when he watched the light leave Thorin’s eyes, leaving him gone forever; that was the night Bilbo held his hand tighter than he’d ever had, pressing it against his chest. That was the night Thorin returned his gaze.

And now as he felt Frodo climb onto his bed, timidly reaching for his hand while mumbling, “It makes me feel safe,” Bilbo allowed himself a sad smile. He’d been lucky to know Thorin Oakenshield. He’d been lucky to plant those trees. He only wished that the time had been enough for him to watch them grow.


End file.
